


found without being lost

by ivermectin



Series: somewhere between avonlea and kirrin island [1]
Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Famous Five - Enid Blyton
Genre: Anne Shirley and George Kirrin are classmates, Gen, George Kirrin uses He/Him Pronouns, Middle School, Weird / misunderstood kids stick together, trans george kirrin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:16:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivermectin/pseuds/ivermectin
Summary: “I think we’re going to get along brilliantly,” Anne says, and gives him a smile as bright as her hair.“You know, I think you’re right,” George says, smiling right back.
Relationships: Anne Shirley & George Kirrin
Series: somewhere between avonlea and kirrin island [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800484
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	found without being lost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [facingthenorthwind (spacegandalf)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegandalf/gifts).



> Ever since we spoke about the Famous Five that day, I've been meaning to do this. Emma, I hope you like it and I am slightly sorry for writing you 5000 fics except for the fic you actually requested almost two years ago. Yes, I am a clown. On second thought, I am not that sorry. 
> 
> It has been YEARS since I read either of these book series so if anyone seems out of character, sorry! 
> 
> I wanted to write them dating, because they would be a chaotic power couple, but my brain just spat out these words and spluttered, so no more of this tonight.

“Rich girl problems,” one of his classmates scoffs, and George sighs to himself. He’s used to this – dismissal, being misgendered, all of it. It’s true, he’s rich, he’s white, he comes from privilege, but he’d swap all that, give all of it away, if only someone would look at him and see a boy. See the boy he really is.

“A problem’s still a problem, it persists, you know?” the new girl says in response, on behalf of George. Her hair, George notes, is very red, and her milky skin is terribly freckled, but there’s something about her that’s startlingly bright and vibrant, that demands being looked at. “Pain seldom disappears just because of other forms of cushioning. No one person’s sadness is worth any more or less than others, I feel, despite the fact that there’s a social scale. I’ve always felt that if something hurts somewhere it’s far more productive to fix it than to let it fester. Wounds are wounds regardless of who has them.”

“I am rich, however,” George says to the girl. “That means a lot of problems that happen to other people don’t affect me. I know that.”

“Not a girl though?” the girl says.

George is startled into stillness. He shakes his head.

“You probably have lots of struggles nobody here understands,” the girl says. “Worse problems than my hair, just look at it. I can never wear pink, the way it glares. I’d look like a corpse, dragged out of a grave, bone white and raw.”

“Uh,” George says. He blinks. “I think your hair is nice. And if you want to wear pink, you should.”

“It’s not that easy,” the girl goes on to say. “I could explain more, but I’d talk for hours. Most people have a limit to listen, and it’s rather hard to condense a lifetime’s worth of experiences into a few sentences. Just because we’re twelve doesn’t mean our lives are a single paragraph! I bet even a baby would have a lot to say if people would just listen. That’s likely why they cry all the time. Soliloquies, I suppose. What else could it be? Babies don’t understand politics, I reckon. I barely understand them myself, and I’ve hit double digits. Matthew says they’re rather distressing though, so perhaps not understanding politics is a blessing? I’ve no clue. Oh dear, I’ve talked your ears off, haven’t I? I’m Anne,” the girl says. “With an E, but it’s silent. The E is really important. Ann without an E looks so very dismal, you know how it is.”

“I’m George,” George says. “And I understand you fully, my cousin’s name is Anne too. She’s got an E at the end as well, but I daresay she doesn’t care much for it.”

“Doesn’t care for it?” Anne asks, scandalized. “These things matter so much. Names make such a difference to who you turn out to be. I think there’s power in choosing a name, but the way the world works makes that so difficult, so many of us just work with what we’ve got. For me, that means shouting about the E as loudly and frequently as I can.”

George smiles.

“I think we’re going to get along brilliantly,” Anne says, and gives him a smile as bright as her hair.

“You know, I think you’re right,” George says, smiling right back.

George doesn’t smile at people like this, not unless he really likes them. George’s fake smiles are like cardboard – very evident in their fakeness.

This? this is real. This is important. George wants this to last.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
